This is just a marvelous program – North Carolina Wildlife Resources has a Mountain Heritage Trout Waters program that makes it a piece o’ cake for you to fish for trout while you’re staying with us! Three miles of hatchery-supported trout stream in Maggie Valley have been designated for fishing within this program, and $5 gets you a three-day license.
No rod & reel? No problem! They have loaners. And every registrant receives a first-time gift of a mini-tackle box with assorted lures.
People always ask me ‘What’s there to do in Maggie Valley?’ My answer, with a wink is, ‘Nothing. And we like it like that.’
But truth be told there are a lot of things to do. Unique things that you just can’t do most other places. Like this one. The Ghost Town in the Sky amusement park has been entertaining kids both young and old for half a century. While it has fallen on hard times in the last few years, it was recently bought by a local resident who aspires to restore Ghost Town to its heyday. And she’s off to a good start. Where else can you ride a ski lift in the summer, or a 1,000 meter zip line, or see the famous western shoot out?
Yes sir, there’s plenty of things to do in Maggie Valley.
Bad news. I have discovered Words with Friends. So from now on, I’m going to stay up far too late, oversleep, and not want to cook breakfast or make beds or answer reservation requests. But hey, I’m winning…
We leaned forward to listen, as one of the ladies prepared to tell us about her requirements for a Perfect Man. He would be tall, she said, and employed. Funny and smart go without saying. She restricted his age to 35-43, and begging your pardon, he simply cannot be a democrat. We sat back and laughed, and discretely surveyed the dining room. Hey, you never know.
So here I am this morning, preparing to tell you about my notion of the perfect coffee mug. Like my friend’s ideal man, it must be taller than round. It must also fit on my cup warmer. Even though it takes me an hour in the morning to savor that first cuppa, I enjoy my coffee scaldingly hot, so a cup that fits on the warmer should have a flat bottom (I’ve no idea what my friend’s requirements are in that area) so that it will actually keep the coffee hot. Most commercial cups, which bore me to tears, have a concave base that doesn’t make contact with the warmer, and I’m back at the microwave every few minutes. That said, it really can’t be a commercial cup. There are just too many really fine potters out there that can make a beautiful coffee mug, and these North Carolina mountains are right smack in the middle of clay heaven.
A brief aside about our clay… It’s so special that Wedgwood China imported it in the 1700s. It was taken to port via the Indian Road (now I-26) to the port of Charleston and shipped to England. Josiah Wedgwood pronounced it remarkable and called it Cherokee Clay. There you are, a special nod to today being Earth Day.
Back to the Perfect Mug. It should have a pleasing appearance, that evokes some uplifting emotion. It should feel wonderful – the handle should be easy to use, your thumb finding just the right place, and the rim should be thoughtfully crafted so you don’t get that aggravating drip down the side. It should be exactly the right size to hold a bit more than a tea cup, but not so large that your coffee’s bound to cool. It should invite you to lean back and wrap your hands around it on a chilly morning. Decorative, certainly, but being decorative can’t outweigh function… like those silly handles your fingers won’t fit in, or square for the sake of being square, or squat, just in case that’s adorable. Flared rims may be unusual, but that’s because they’re difficult to use. As in architecture, form follows function. And it should be hand-crafted. I don’t want to ‘make do’. I want to Enjoy. I want to Savor. I want to Appreciate -both the coffee and the mug it’s in.
I’m just guessing that my friend would also like to find a man crafted here in these Smoky Mountains, with a pleasing appearance, who feels wonderful, and is just the right shape, who works flawlessly and is prepared to help her enjoy a cup of coffee every morning. I hope she finds him. I’ve found my mug.
Here it is.
Made in America. By hand.
In case you’re wondering, our mugs are handmade by the good folks at Deneen Pottery. And the coffee that goes in them is Elida Estate, from Panama. We’ll be happy to send you home with both. Come enjoy your next cup on the porch by the stream, under these tall trees, at Timberwolf Creek.
<snooty>Ahem. It was my distinct pleasure to dine with granddaughter of Maggie Mae Setzer, after whom our fair town was named. Sniff.<end snooty>
Reality? Dee Dee got in touch with me, hoping for a repeat of our first encounter. She was not disappointed, nor was I.
One of the first people to cross my threshold at Timberwolf Creek was Patty Kosier. Patty is Maggie’s daughter -THE Maggie of “Maggie Valley”. I was scared to death and Patty and her husband Claude couldn’t have been kinder and more genuine. By the time they left, we were fast friends. They came every year -and then Claude passed away. Patty got in touch with me from Texas, where she lives, and told me that she wanted to come stay with me for her annual visit to Maggie Valley, but she was nervous about traveling without Claude. Her niece would come with her, just to get her settled in. Enter niece Dee Dee.
Patty arrived, with Dee Dee and her friend, Michelle. It didn’t take too long to do the math, and figure out that if Dee Dee was Patty’s niece… and Dee Dee’s mother was Patty’s sister… that Dee Dee’s grandmother was none other than Maggie herself. Wow! But that wasn’t where the similarity ended. Dee Dee was just as much fun as her aunt had been that very first day. Patty checked in at 3:00. I walked her group over to the little guest cottage… and at 7:00, Larry had to come find me.
There we were, laughing until we cried, cutting up and telling stories, words falling over each other, lots of, “Yes! Yes! That happened to me the same way!” It was one of those Ya-Ya Sisters afternoons, when the fountain of friendship just bubbles over. We all knew we were sharing something special. Nice chemistry, and good feelings all around.
When Dee Dee and Michelle planned another trip out here this summer, it was with real delight that I made plans to meet with them. We decided to meet for lunch up at the Mountaineer, where you can have a glass of wine on the screened porch -very much a ‘summer camp’ kind of place.
Lunch time. Right. Larry just rolled his eyes and smiled when I headed out the door for ‘lunch’. I got back at almost six. Happy, glowing, wide smiles, effervescent with stories and shared laughs -what a wonderful time!
So here it is, evidence of my brush with celebrity: me and Maggie’s granddaughter. Hoo-ah.
The following is a letter I wrote to Nashoba Winery, in Massachussets. Nashoba makes orchard wines, among other things, and we like to visit when we’re up in the Boston area to see our daughter’s family. Our favorite thing from Nashoba is a fortified spiced cranberry wine, called Foggy Bog. Too sweet for me to enjoy on its own, we use it anyplace you might find Chambourd, Grand Marnier, or… well… cranberry juice. (I know, we’re so bad!) But if you like sangria, you may want to consider finding yourself some cranberry brandy, too!
Ok. Letter to Nashoba Winery:
Hi, folks!
I wrote to you sometime back (ok, YEARS ago) when I started making “Foggy Bog Martinis”. A Foggy Bog martini is essentially a cosmopolitan, without that pesky fruit juice. It is: 2 shots vodka, 1 shot Foggy Bog, ½ shot Grand Marnier. Shaken with ice. Fabulous, and makes a regular appearance here in the Smoky Mountains, at least on my back porch. Our eldest lives in Natick and makes regular trips to Nashoba, and occasionally sends me care packages of Foggy Bog.
Enter cocktail sensation #2: the perfect Summer Sangria. Hubby and I were traveling to St Augustine, Florida, and went to lunch at the ubiquitous Columbia restaurant. It’s wonderfully Cuban and a must-do whenever possible. This time, though, instead of ordering a beer with my Cuban sandwich and black bean soup, I spotted the Sangria List. (No kidding: they have a wine list and a whole separate list for sangria.) Never a particular fan of sangria, I almost missed the one called Sangria de Cava. Now, I *am* a fan of bubbly. I don’t care if it’s champagne from France (or California, for that matter) or Spanish cava, or Italian prosecco – I just like the bubbly stuff. So I figured, when in…. Florida… Anyway, we ordered our pitcher.
It was wonderful. Their recipe is online, but in short, it is simple syrup, soda water, oranges, limes, brandy, orange liqueur, and a split of cava.
I went home and tweaked the recipe until I hit on this, the *best* of all sangrias, featuring – naturally – Foggy Bog.
Darned good thing I have six more bottles of the stuff in my ‘cellar’ because it’s going to be a long summer!
Attached for your perusal, my facebook post:
And I thank you for your time, and for a fine product.
us! Three miles of hatchery-supported trout stream in Maggie Valley have been designated for fishing within this program, and $5 gets you a three-day license. 
